


Hangover

by BlackCatIIIX



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alcohol, Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, implied blusey, slight implication of dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 11:50:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5162807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackCatIIIX/pseuds/BlackCatIIIX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronan wakes up next to Adam, naked and with no idea how he got there. Miscommunication ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hangover

Ronan groaned head thumping as he returned to consciousness and slowly took stock of his body. Seems he’d made it to bed, that was good, Gansey wasn’t going to have a bitch-fit at him then. Injuries? A bit stiff but overall fine other than the hangover. Clothes were gone, guess he’d been too drunk to pull on pyjamas when he got in. He tried to recall getting home but was coming up blank. He’d really hit the bottle hard last night. Overall he was warm and surprisingly well rested, but fuck did he need to piss. Rolling over and opening his eyes Ronan froze.

This wasn’t his room.

This wasn’t his bed.

This was the loft above St. Agnes.

This was Adam’s bed.

Which Adam was also in.

Why the fuck was he lying completely naked next to Adam fucking Parish?

* * *

Adam woke up feeling slightly worse for wear. This wasn’t unusual in all honesty. And he didn’t think much of the dull headache and achy body.

Rolling over he found a wide-eyed Ronan seemingly frozen in a combination of shock and horror. It was hard to tell if he was still paralyzed from a dream. Or just from finding he and Adam naked in a bed together.

Adam recoiled slightly, the events of last night rushing back in a merciless torrent.

“Uh, mornin’,” Adam drawled, his Henrietta accent thick due to a combination of early morning and panic.

Ronan’s mouth open and closed a few times before forming a sharp line and biting out “what the fuck happened last night?”

Adam’s panic intensified, and he moved even further away from Ronan, bumping into the wall behind him. “What?”

“You fucking heard me, Parish, what the fuck happened?” Ronan’s features were growing sharper and angrier by the second.

“You don’t remember?” Adam asked. Thinking, _you shouldn’t be surprised Adam Parish, you are unknowable, inconsequential. Of course Ronan wouldn’t think of you when sober._

“Fucking obviously. The last thing I remember was being on a bridge working my way through a bottle of whiskey.” _That’s not right_ , Ronan thought, as he had a fuzzy memory of finishing the bottle and although quite drunk, heading to a liquor store for more. And he had an even vaguer impression of heading from the liquor store, swigging from one of the bottles he’d purchased and thinking that he might as well crash at the church, it was warmer than the lonely bridge.

Adam’s face had become as blank as he could manage. Although Ronan could tell by his posture he was panicking, and probably a bit pissed, that made two of them.

“You almost knocked down my door at 2am, blind drunk. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised you don’t remember anything. You were halfway through a bottle of whiskey and you’d brought me a bottle of wine. You insisted we played drinking games.”

“You don’t drink,” Ronan interjected.

Adam glared. “Well, maybe a felt like trying something new.” He wasn’t going to admit that it seemed like Ronan was having fun, and he just wanted to have an experience the two of them could share. Also, Ronan was a very persuasive drunk.

Despite everything Ronan smirked, sharp and hard and slightly condescending. “Right. So then what?”

It’s just beginning to dawn on Adam the severity of the situation. Ronan didn’t remember anything. I wonder if he’ll punch me when he finds out. “So we were playing uh strip poker,” Ronan raises an eyebrow. “I think that was your idea, anyway we were pretty much tied.”

“Bullshit, I kick your ass at poker.”

“You were pretty drunk Ronan, it made for a pretty good handicap,” Adam responded dryly. “Anyway, I’d just taken my jeans off when you suddenly jumped up and started mumbling about going home, you started heading for the door in just your underwear and socks. I got up too to try and stop you and ended up kind of-uh-catching you. You weren’t doing a very good job standing.” It was beginning to occur to sober Adam that he probably should have realised how drunk Ronan was the night before, his only excuse was “I wasn’t doing so well either. So anyway, we both ended up falling over.”

“That explains the sore ass,” Ronan said, although even he knew that was unlikely to be the case. It was worth sounding naïve for Adam’s reaction, though. Adam physically faltered. Flushing bright red from torso to hairline, he stuttered, “Uh, well, no. Well, it could be, but it ain’t the only reason.” Adam wished he didn’t have to spell this out. It made him feel dirtier than normal; he was just realising Ronan had been far too drunk to give consent.

Ronan was finding Adam's thicker than normal Henrietta accent distracting, despite his growing mortification.

But Adam’s next sentence brought him back to the situation at hand “Ronan I’m so sorry, I was drunk. Otherwise, I never would ha-“ Ronan felt the hope that had slowly been growing inside him quickly die.

Ronan, who was only now beginning to flush, cut him off. “Right, well, I understand. Everyone does things regrettable when drunk. I mean I can’t even remember so it doesn’t even matter.” He barked, face hard despite the pink tinge. Not bothering to even attempt to preserve his modesty he threw himself out of bed and began collecting his clothes, leaving Adam in a bewildered silence.

 _Did you really expect anything different? You’re so stupid, of course, Ronan wouldn’t want anything to do with you. You’re disgusting._ Adam’s internal anger began to spill out. “What-fucking-ever Ronan, go somewhere else next time you’re that drunk. Go back to being Gansey’s problem.” He snapped bitterly.

* * *

_Did you really expect anything different? You’re so stupid, of course, Adam wouldn’t want anything to do with you. He’s not gay. You’re disgusting._ Ronan turned on his way out the door, to Adam who looked small and pale, still swaddled in blankets. His grin was sharp enough to cut. “I’ll leave you to Blue then.” The slamming of the door seemed to drive the final blow home, leaving Adam to sit in a seething, self-deprecating silence.

Ronan stormed out of the church, slammed into his car and pulled out of the parking lot at top speed. It was early Saturday morning, so there wasn’t even a slim chance of running into someone to drag race with. So he opted for driving the mostly deserted roads outside Henrietta at break-neck speed.

After a while though even physically throwing himself around corners as fast as possible couldn’t quiet the thoughts in his head. He kept running Adam’s _“Ronan, I’m so sorry,”_  over in his head, thinking; _stupid. Stupid. STUPID. You should have known better than to expect anything else. What were you expecting? That after drunk sex all of a sudden Adam would discover his latent homosexuality? You said you were happy being just friends. Why would you have gone over there drunk? As he pulled violently into the Barns, almost destroying an innocent garden gnome he heard Adam saying “Go back to being Gansey’s problem.” And he felt a different sort of anger build up. Was that the only reason Adam put up with me? To be my minder? To make Gansey’s life easier. Were we even friends? Or was that wishful thinking too?_ This barrage continued as Ronan exhausted himself with the punching bag, and then a baseball bat and the side of his father’s barn. It wasn’t like the animals inside would notice anyway, he still hadn’t managed to elicit more than a few twitches from any of them, despite Gansey’s success in the caves below Cabeswater.

Even though physically exhausted, Ronan was still a churning ball of anger when he returned to Monmouth. Gansey looked up as the front door slammed, but didn’t say anything about Ronan’s absence as he stalked towards his room, again slamming the door behind him. It briefly occurred to Ronan that Adam probably messaged Gansey to say where Ronan was, which only infuriated him further. However, as exhausted and sore as he was he didn’t have the will to continue his fit of rage, instead of throwing whimsical belongings around the room, he instead, collapsed onto his bed. Ignoring the pain that stabbed through him.

Although, he wasn’t intending to, he found himself rapidly slipping into sleep and was soon walking through his own version of Cabeswater.

It seemed though, even Cabeswater wasn’t willing to cut it’s Greywarren a break, weaving through the forest Ronan caught constant glimpses of Adam flitting in and out of the trees, always at the edges of his vision. Playing some teasing game that only the trees understood. Ronan soon found himself looking for Adam, who whenever Ronan finally locked on, would dart out of sight. Infuriated further, Ronan found himself running through the woods in pursuit.

As he burst through into a clearing Adam disappeared, only to reappear with another version of Ronan playing cards in a semi-naked state in the middle of the glade. “What the fuck?” Ronan asked, not needing to be reminded of his failures even in his dreams. The trees around him whispered _Memento_ and Ronan muttered “I need to remember this like I need a fucking shot to the head, just let me wake up already.” His complaints notwithstanding, he continued to stare as Dream Adam stood up and, not breaking eye-contact with Dream Ronan, began to wriggle out of his faded jeans. Dream Ronan appeared not to know where to look, and suddenly, as Adam sat back down, jumped up with a muttered “I better get home, Gansey will worry.” And began to look around for his shirt.

Adam frowned as if disappointed and also stood up, also slightly unstable on his feet. “Ronan, I messaged Gansey ages ago. He knows you’re safe, you don’t need to rush home.” Stepping forwards and reaching out to try and help stabilize the drastically swaying Ronan, he added, “I’m happy for you to stay.”

Ronan looked over his shoulder, cheeks flushing at the sight of Adam standing so close and biting his lip. “Naah, definitely shd go.” His slurring removing several vowels from his sentence. Turning back to the door, he seemingly tripped over nothing and Adam dived to try and catch him, sending both boys crashing to the floor. Adam somehow ended up on top of Ronan and started giggling as he attempted to stand back up. Something which—both Real and Dream Ronan noticed—seemed to involve a large amount of accidentally touching Ronan’s exposed skin. Finally managing to stand, Adam offered his hand to Dream Ronan, pulling him up so the boys were basically chest to chest. Dream Adam, in a surprising display of confidence, ran both his hands down Dream Ronan’s chest, letting them rest on the boys angular hips.

“You don’t have t’ go,” he giggled, his sentence distorted by both drink and his native accent.

Dream Ronan looked angry, “what th’ fuck are you playin’ at Parish?”

Dream Adam clearly hesitated, letting his hands drop and looking away. “Nothin’, I jus’ thought…” he trailed off. Both Ronan’s let out a grunt of frustration.

_Fucking Parish and is goddamn insecurities. He should just say it fucking straight._

Dream Ronan, probably due to the effects of the excessively large amount of alcohol he’d consumed earlier, didn’t draw back like Real Ronan would have expected. Instead, with surprising gentleness, he moved his fingers to Adam’s chin, and gently lifted it so the boy would meet his eyes. Dream Ronan leant in, and Ronan, from where he was standing, barely heard him whisper, “what is it y’ thought, Adam?”

Adam flushed at the close proximity and whispered words. Gaze flicking between Ronan’s eyes and lips Adam slowly lifted his hand and grabbed Ronan’s, gently removing it from his chin. “I thought you wanted this,” he said, and slowly, keeping eye contact that made even Real Ronan squirm like he was having his soul inspected, Adam leaned in until the pair’s lips met.

Dream Ronan’s eyes widened in shock, despite the slow and obvious lead up. Noticing Ronan tense Adam pulled back, “s-sorry, I uh, I just-“ he was cut off by Dream Ronan who seeming to have time to process had decided not to waste the opportunity. Surging forward he reattached himself to Adam’s lips, taking the boy by surprise and pushing him slightly off balance. Adam stumbled back, which Dream Ronan used to his advantage to maneuver Adam back against one of the walls of his apartment, which real Ronan started at, because it had suddenly appeared in the clearing. Not the entire apartment just the wall, as if Ronan needed any reminder that this was a sick and twisted dream.

Dream Ronan seemed to be enjoying himself, with Adam seemingly content to be pinned against the wall both boys continued their lip lock while the let their hands wonder. Adam broke off to let a little giggle as Ronan’s hands ghosted down his sides, only to let out a gasp as Dream Ronan used his freedom to mouth down Adam’s neck, very gently nipping at his jugular.

Adam’s gasp seemed to stir something in Real Ronan’s memory as if this may have actually happened last night. _But even if it is real, Adam’s drunk and he clearly changed his mind this morning._

Dream Adam was grabbing at Dream Ronan and tugging the shorter boy back toward the bed. With little grace, the two boys collapsed down, Adam inserting himself between Ronan’s legs and arms on either side of his head.

Suddenly Ronan’s vision overlapped with the scene before him and he saw Adam’s face hovering over him while Dream Adam hovered over his Dream-self. “This is ok right, you’re going to be ok with this tomorrow still?” Both Adam’s asked hesitance showing on their face. “Fuck Parish just get on with it, of course it’s ok,” Dream Ronan laughed. Adam grinned, and Real Ronan turned away, dream or not there are some things you don’t need to see in third person.

When he turned he found himself in Adam’s apartment, although not as it usually was, it looked like Ronan’s room after a bad day. Glasses were smashed, boxes previously utilized as furniture lay on their sides in haphazard locations, as if they’d been kicked, or thrown; the table was in pieces all over the room. Ronan looked around expecting to find Adam dead in a corner—surely this was the work of Robert Parish. What Ronan found instead was a seemingly unharmed Adam sat on his bed, chin resting on arms folded across his knees, staring darkly out at the room.

Ronan woke with a start, the image of Adam curled up on his bed lingering. Looking at the clock he saw it was just past midnight. But that didn’t stop him hurling himself out of bed, and rushing around chaotically trying to find shoes.

He thought back to Adam’s face this morning and realized that he may have not read it properly at all, despite how long he’d spent staring at it. He’d never seen Adam looked hurt before and if Cabeswater was right, this was his fault. “Now I’m taking advice from fucking trees,” he angrily muttered under his breath.

Gansey looked up from his model of Henrietta slightly startled as Ronan walked out of his room as quietly as his urgency allowed—on the off chance Gansey actually had managed to get to sleep for once.

“Going somewhere?” The boy asked, adding an awning to one of the shops.

“Yeah, out,” was Ronan’s perpetually unhelpful reply.

“Say hi to Adam for me,” Gansey said with a knowing look that Ronan thought was both unnecessary and inaccurate at this current point in time.

“Say hi to Blue for me when she calls then,” he bit back, enjoying the flush that rose to Ganseys cheeks before stalking out the front door.

* * *

Adam wasn’t quite sure how long he’d been sitting huddled on his bed, caught up in his own angry thoughts, surrounded by his own angry actions. But it had gone from light to dark so it must have been awhile.

Although not knowing the exact time, he did know it was probably not an appropriate hour for someone to start loudly and insistently banging on his door. He at first stayed silent, pretending to not be home, but the thudding continued, finally accompanied by a voice “Parish, I know you’re in there. Open the fucking door.”

“Go away Ronan,” Adam said wearily, although he unfurled and moved to the edge of his bed.

“No,” said Ronan stubbornly.

“Ronan,” Adam growled. “I am not in the mood for your antics tonight, drunk or otherwise.”

“I’m not fucking drunk.”

“Then why are you banging at my door at some ungodly hour?”

Adam almost expected a string of obscenities at his obstinacy; instead he got an almost broken sounding. “Adam, please.”

Despite his anger, and the devastation that was currently his room, Adam moved to the door. Ronan never said please. Ever.

Not bothering to turn on the light, Adam opened the door, just enough that it framed his body, making it clear he wasn’t offering Ronan entrance.

“What.”

Adam was refusing to meet Ronan’s eyes, instead the boy was staring at the ground somewhere between their feet. Not able to gain entrance to the flat to see if it was in the same condition as his dream, Ronan hesitated.

His demand being met by silence, Adam finally looked up. “What?” he asked again, ever so slightly gentler. Ronan looked like a deer in the headlights. A very sharp, pointy deer. He opened his mouth. Once. Twice.

“What were you going to say when you were apologising this morning? Before I cut you off?” The tattooed boy suddenly blurted. Simultaneously avoiding and—in a very roundabout way—answering Adam’s question. It had only just dawned on Ronan that maybe he’d missed the point this morning. But again, only if Cabeswater was right. Either way, he might avoid making a bigger mess than he would’ve otherwise.

Adam though, was not particularly feeling like apologising for his wrongdoings after Ronan’s performance this morning. Especially if he was only here to laugh. _Or press charges_ a small part of Adam’s mind muttered dubiously.

“I was going to say I’m sorry you’re such a colossal ass,” Adam said as he started to shut the door.

Ronan reached out and stopped him. “No, you weren’t.”

Something about Ronan’s beseeching look drew Adam’s ire. “I don’t know Ronan, what do you want me to say? I’m sorry we both got drunk and did something stupid? I’m sorry I didn’t think it was a bad idea at the time? Well, Ronan, I’m sorry. Now let me go,” he snapped.

“Adam, please.” There was that phrase again. Adam found himself unable to look at Ronan’s face at the same time he resisted revealing his true feelings, so once again dropped his gaze to the ground.

“Please what Ronan? What do you want from me? Do you want me to say we’re just two friends that got drunk? That we’ll go back to being friends? Friends don’t turn up at midnight unannounced to badger me with questions,” Adam concluded tersely, trying slightly more forcefully to slam the door. 

Ronan braced himself against the door more firmly, leaning closer to Adam in the process. “I don’t want to be friends Adam,” Ronan said, voice hoarse with tension.

Startled, Adam jerked his head up to look at Ronan’s face and vaguely wondered how the boys cheekbones didn’t cut his own skin from the inside, when his face was pulled that tight in anxiety. “What?” he asked yet again.

“I really don’t want to be friends Adam,” Ronan said with a gentle hesitance. “So, please, tell me, what were you going to say this morning? If it was you were sorry for getting drunk and fucking a friend you have no actual interest in, I’ll leave.”

Adam’s eyes widened in shock. “No, that wasn’t it! I wasn’t going to- Oh god, I didn’t rea-,” he faltered, words tumbling over themselves as he ran back over the morning and realized how his phrasing had sounded.

Ronan’s face hadn’t relaxed, though. Adam drew a shuddering breath, and looking Ronan directly in the eyes he said, “I was going to say sorry for not realizing how drunk you were. It wasn’t right.”

Ronan relaxed a fraction but remained tense. “It wasn’t about what we did the night before?”

“Well, yes, but only because you didn’t remember it. I enjoyed the rest,” Adam said. Looking down yet again, expecting Ronan’s anger to reignite, knowing how Adam had abused his trust.

Ronan tentatively moved a hand under Adam’s chin, guiding his face back up, and—even slower than Adam last night—inched their faces closer together. Adam’s eyes flickered between both of Ronan’s, then down to his mouth and back up. At no point did he attempt move away. Ronan, more gently than Adam had thought the boy capable of, pressed a kiss to Adam’s lips.

Pulling back just enough that he could speak Ronan looked into Adam’s eyes and said, “I meant what I said last night, it was ok, it will always be ok Adam.”

Adam pulled back slightly brow furrowed in confusion. “I thought you didn’t remember?”

Ronan pulled a face. “Well it seems I might need to thank Cabeswater later on, it gave me a bit of a, uh, rundown of last night's events.”

“So you _do_ remember what happened?”

“Uh, not exactly, I, uh, kinda saw it, third person. I left before things got R-rated,” Ronan struggled to explain.

Adam’s mouth quirked. “Shame, that was the best part.”

“You’re a dick,” Ronan groaned.

Adam laughed.

“So, can I come in?”

Adam’s smile faded slightly. “Uh, the place is kinda a mess.”

Ronan’s smile also faded a little. “Yeah I know, Cabeswater filled that bit in as well, I wouldn’t have come otherwise, I thought it was a dream. But…”

“But what?”

“I couldn’t leave you looking like that, if it wasn’t a dream, and if it was my fault, fuck,” Ronan rubbed his head in agitation, ears slightly pink.

Adam silently opens the door a little wider. “I guess it’s no worse than your room after a normal day,” he tries to alleviate the situation.

Ronan steps in and turns on the light, inspecting the damage, and trying not to show openly how angry he is for causing Adam to lose control like this. “You’re table’s dead,” he said eying the wooden splinters. “What the fuck did you even do to it?”

“I’m not quite sure in all honesty. It was a shitty table, though. Doubt I could’ve done it to the one in Monmouth,” Adam replied, running his hand through his hair.

It was then Ronan spied the rawness of his knuckles and clenched his jaw.

Adam, seeing the direction of his gaze drew his hand to eye level. “Ronan, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes, it was,” Ronan barked.

Adam reached out for Ronan, who stepped forward despite himself. Adam wrapped his arms around the boy’s neck and pressed their foreheads together. “Ronan, whatever you did in the barns today, that left your knuckles bruised, that was your doing, just like this is mine,” he said firmly.

Ronan hesitated, then gently removed himself from Adam’s hold and grabbed his left hand. Looking at the raw and torn flesh he slowly brought the hand to his mouth. Adam let out a soft noise. Ronan glanced up mouth still connected to hand to see Adam slightly flushed and biting his lip.

“So do you want me to give you a, uh, more first-hand recap of what happened last night?” Adam stuttered slightly, trying to look as meaningfully as he could towards the bed.

“Fuck yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, first fic I've written in a looong time, hope you enjoyed it, and the POV swaps weren't confusing. Constructive criticism is always appreciated ^_^


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